The Illusionist
by Phaloscen
Summary: A child of Hecate and the blessed of Phobos, Perseus Jackson is not the average demigod. He is an Illusionist, a player of dangerous games... a magician of sorts, an assassin for those unfortunate enough to face his mother's wrath. This is his story. Surprisingly light-hearted at parts.
1. Chapter 1: Intimidation

Zoë, the premier huntress of Artemis, hadn't felt scared in millenia.

But here, stranded and alone, clutching furtively to her bow, cornered in a dark alley, the beginnings of fear, that unfamiliar emotion, began to claw at her heart. Grimacing, she shifted to her knives, scanning the darkness with both eyes.

A chuckle; she turned and lashed out in a blur of silver. The knife raced through the air and struck a wood post- where she perceived her attacker's voice to be. Another chuckle, this time darker, filled the air.

"Stop playing your games, you coward. Come and fight me!"

Her attacker was positively laughing now; his guwaffs filled the alley from every which direction.

A tall figure stepped from the shadows; before he could react, Zoë flicked her wrist.

The hunting knife flew through the air and ripped through the figure, sending shards of black clattering to the floor. Wait… shards?

A mirror. She'd struck a mirror. Which meant… she turned to find herself staring at a black wall. Moss crept up the sides, adding to is ethereality.

Her mind flew far past fear and landed somewhere between terror and horror. Her breath quickened; as she shouted, her voice trembled: "Your silly games have no effect! You have done nothing; soon my mistress shall come and end you…"

Another chuckle, this time louder.

"If I were to kill you, don't you think I'd have had enough opportunity? Relax, huntress. I mean no harm."

She didn't trust the voice.

From out of the shadows strolled a dark-haired boy.

Her immediate thought was that he looked elfish- like a young James Bond; his dark suit only made to complement the image.

Sharp, handsome features, glinting eyes- a stage magician, perhaps. An illusionist. Perhaps a killer. Certainly not one to play games.

"What do you want from me?" she hated the way her voice cracked.

"I want nothing- nothing other than the location of the fabled 'Camp Half-Blood.' You've heard of it, I assume?"

"Of course. Long Island sound."

The boy tapped a contemplative finger to his lips. "I'd have thought so… I was a _fool_ to ignore such a magical hotspot. Very well. You may leave."

Zoë frowned. "The exit being…?"

He gestured vaguely to the darkness. The air cleared suddenly to reveal a large, empty street.

They were in a shallow inway, not even a dark alley; nothing could possibly suggest it. Sunlight, previously blocked, filtered through the cracked walls. This did not look remotely like the dungeon she'd expected.

No, not remotely. This looked almost like… a playplace. Perhaps a field- or a park, shadowed between two large buildings.

"How-"

"The Mist. All legacies of Hecate have some control over it; I am… mother's favorite. She's blessed me with… certain… advantages.

I'm rambling. Your… group… should be searching for you; take a left and you should find them."

He turned and flicked a white-gloved hand; a cloak flew up to obscure his image. It fell, motionless, upon the floor, taking what remained of the boy with it through the shadows and into nothing at all.

* * *

Percy grinned. Dramatics, dramatics… he loved them. There _was_ a reason his mother called him her _favorite_; that counted as quite a lot from the goddess of Magic and Mist.

Shadow-travel was barbaric, really. Mist-travel was far more convenient- no screams, no motion sickness… he'd take it over its darker cousin any day.

He materialized in Puget sound with a dulled _pop _and surveyed his surroundings.

Dark rocks littered a large, sandy beach leading up to steep cliffs. He'd aimed it perfectly. Near-perfectly, anyways.

Squinting, he could barely make out the outline of a large house.

Alarms suddenly blared; he looked around, alarmed, as screams and footsteps echoed through the din.

"Intruder! Intruder!"

Whirling, he turned and leapt behind a large cluster of rocks- and just in time, too.

A small group of armored demigods rose from behind a large forest, peering nervously across the seemingly empty beach. Percy closed his eyes and willed the mist to veil him; it bent to his will.

Now only the sharpest of eyes could possibly make out the distorted heat haze lying on the boulder.

It would be interesting to see how this one played out.

"Search the perimeter!"

So the huntress hadn't lied. This was the demigod camp. Interesting… he'd have liked to arrive under less… unpleasant… circumstances, but no matter.

The group of demigods had now fanned out through the beach; they worked quite efficiently, scouring every tree and enclave.

He still wondered how they'd gleaned his location- much less, his arrival. Nothing short of a Golden Fleece would be that magically perceptive.

Percy held his breath as a blonde, grey-eyed girl prodded the rocks around. She sniffed the air like a bloodhound, casually leaning against the rocks near him…

"Aha!"

She jabbed the blunt end of her spear with a sudden vigor; Percy was could only watch as it struck his stomach. The veneer of translucency instantly wore off; he crumbled over the rock surface, clutching his abdomen. How had she known? The Mist served as a near-transparent medium.

The important thing was not how she knew, but that she knew- and that the troupe of Campers now sauntered to his prostrate form. He instantly rolled aside, dodging another thrust of the spear.

Coughing, he willed the Mist to him; the air around him clung to his stomach, repairing the bruise with efficiency.

"Who are you?"

Percy grinned. "I am Percy. Percy Jackson."

He stood suddenly, eliciting another jab of the blunt end of the spear, which he caught easily between his pointer and middle finger.

"I need to see your… leader. Or director. Or whatever you call that here."

"Ha!"

She ripped the spear from Percy's hand and swung again in a massive undercut; Percy whirled around. The sharp end cut through the edge of his cloak; he winced. He treasured that heirloom.

The other demigods had their spears, bows, and arrows levied straight at him now, all nervous. They'd seen his sudden and lightning-fast reactions, and they certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of this stranger's punches.

Percy held up his hand in an act of surrender.

"That's better." the girl spat. "We'll take you to the counselor, all right. But not after you-"

She shoved a spear at his throat; he stared at the tip unflinchingly.

"Answer a few questions."

"Alright. Shoot."

The girl narrowed her eyes. "How did you get into camp?"

Percy frowned. He decided to lie. "I… I shadow-travelled."

"You… you're a child of… of Hades?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "Ha! Of course not. I wish."

This final revelation was accompanied with a scoff.

"No; of course not! I'm a child of Hecate and the chosen of Phobos, personally. They grant me certain... powers."

Seeing her disbelieving look, he added, "I swear it on the Styx."

Thunder boomed in the distance despite the absence of clouds.

"Alright. We'll bring you to Mr. D then. He'll question you further."

Normally, Percy wouldn't mind being surrounded by a troupe of his own kind. Provided, of course, that said group wasn't bloodthirsty and carrying spears.

He could tell his mother's errand was about to get a lot more complicated.


	2. Chapter 2: Errand

**A/N Wow. 10 followers. Thanks! :)**

**Please leave a review on the way out! Any meaningful ones will be mentioned in the next chapter.**

**Thanks to Hostiel and writerfromheaven for reviewing! **

_Three years ago… _

He felt the ground rush to meet him, felt his body race through the earth. Within seconds, the requirements were met.

His first Game was about to begin.

He rubbed his hands expectantly. His body (ethereal, of course) would be encased in a shroud of mist- a fooling mist, hovering several feet, completely transparent, above the ground. The rest would be up to him.

The man his mother'd chosen for him was rather simple- a tall, frightened businessman who'd had the nerve to attack his mother on a journey down to earth.

Percy cracked his back and his neck. The Mist swarmed up to his fingers and spread through the alleyway, obscuring all sunlight. Excellent. His very first distortion field.

Inside, the businessman shrieked. Fear, intense fear pounded through the medium, racing into the businessman's body in quick strokes.

* * *

The businessman was thoroughly spooked. He was absolutely clueless as to why or how he'd gotten here…

Fear suddenly hit him in large pangs; he checked behind him, his eyes widening. "Who- who's there?"

A dark, deep laugh reverberated through… nothing at all. He looked up; the sun, which had been shining so brightly, had been blocked by a dark mist, giving the semblance of night. A light, a flickering light, beamed into existence before quickly winking out.

The man shrieked. "What the h*ll!?"

Turning, he fumbled for his pistol, and was horrified to find it was no longer there. The dark laugh echoed again.

From through the darkness, the familiar black-and-blue shape of his Glock came sailing through the air.

"Were you looking for that, funny man?"

With trembling hands, he raised the gun. "C-come out! Or I'll shoot!"

The laugh came again, sending shivers down his spine.

"I-I-I'll shoot! I swear, I'll do it!"

And then a voice- a dark, booming voice whispered to his ear: "I have no doubt about that."

He swirled around, panting in fright, frantically searching the air behind him. Nothing but a wall of darkness. He _felt_ the musty, warm breath of this _horrific_ man; horror, pure horror filled his brain and took over motor control. All rational thought abandoned him as he shrunk ever farther into the corner…

The wall- he was certain there'd been a wall- disappeared. Shouting, he fell, hitting the floor with a _bang!_

Darkness, absolute darkness instantly swarmed over the last of the light; he screamed again as it took him by the arms and legs, holding him upright…

A mask. A stark white mask suddenly appeared through the darkness, followed by small, fluid limbs.

"Funny man!"

The businessman realized, with an intense horror, that the speaker was a child- and that somehow made it ever the more terrifying.

Gasping, he jerked his arm and unleashed the last resource he had of him. His gun.

Three short bursts filled the air; the child staggered, but didn't drop.

He grinned.

Blood, the horrible, crimson liquid dropped from his gums; the bullets, still shining, stood out from his teeth. Several chunks were cracked and cut, sending bits of metal flying through the din.

The child had somehow, against all odds, caught the bullets between the skin of his teeth. With a deliberacy worthy of a madman, he spat them out. He grinned at the man, showing empty, deprived gums.

A mass of white filling remained of what had once been teeth.

And still the child didn't care. He looked at the man with that horrifying, never-flinching smile; the eyes- oh god, the eyes- they were positively insane.

The man screamed and screamed and screamed up until the point that the child hit the hilt of the knife blade to the front of his skull.

* * *

Ah, fear. A truly delightful resource. Grinning, he cricked his back and stared at the unconscious man. He could never kill the man; oh, no. Phobos, the god of fear and partner to his mother, had explicitly told him to horrify his victims as much as possible before the final stroke- but there would be no final stroke. At least, not today. Percy had something against the taking of souls- even one as mangled as this one.

Grimacing, he felt at his mouth. The mist, which had so cleverly disguised his perfectly fine gums, dissipated. Three bullets, each hovering, shrouded, in mid-air, hit the floor.

He'd never caught the bullets. Oh, no. Simply created a mist-barrier strong enough to stop them in mid-air.

Stretching, he threw one playing card down upon the prostrate form of the man; in an instant, he was engulfed by shadow.

The businessman awoke several hours later to the image of a joker winking disparagingly at him. He'd never be able to play poker ever again.

* * *

_Flashback End_

The odd troupe made their way up the side of the cliff and into the camp beyond, attracting numerous looks from many campers.

It felt like hours before they finally climbed through the bluff and up the cracked white steps and into the lounge of the Big House.

A man, in his fifties, absentmindedly drinking a martini, looked up at him. "Who's this?"

His voice slurred.

"Percy Jackson. He shadow-traveled to camp, so we captured him and brought him in for questioning."

At this, the god's eyes widened. "Shadow-traveled, you say… Bring him in."

Smirking, the demigods roughly threw the Son of Hecate into the room.

He landed on the carpet, face-first.

Spitting mothballs, he stood and faced the man. His mother had told him of a god, a wine god who was in charge of the going-ons of the camp. However hard it was to believe this drunken tramp was a god, he trusted his mother's intel.

"Hello. I am a messenger from Hecate…"

At this, Dionysus perked up instantly.

Percy grinned inwardly. Ah, so Dionysus _had_ met his mother.

"I have been hearing of the… hm…"

He pulled out a large, cracked sheet and consulted the fine print.

"Oh, yes. The 'atrocious' act of 'despicable stupidity' at not 'showing the respect' her children deserve." he crumpled the paper back up and shoved it through his pocket.

"In other words, she wants you to build her sons a cabin, and show her some respect at Camp Half-Blood. Fast. Or she's going to start blowing things up."

It would be hilarious for any camper to suggest such a thing to Dionysus; had it not been anybody other than a messenger of Hecate, he'd surely have blasted him into a grapevine.

To Percy, he offered only a raised eyebrow.

"Oh. That's nice."

Taking another swig of wine, he turned back to the boy. "Sorry. Where was I? Okay. Cabins. Hm…"

He eyed his glass balefully. "I'm going to need more of this."

Stalking to the kitchen, he grabbed an entire glass of red wine and chugged it down in one gulp.

Percy watched, amused.

By the time the god finished, he was barely standing. "That… that'll… no, no. No. Tell your patron no. Making one exception will give the other minor deities a reason to protest; before you know it, even Janus will want a cabin!"

His voice was slurred. "Tell your patron that she has exactly zilch power here. If she has a problem, go complain to Zeus."

Dionysus blinked. "Okay. Yeah. That's about it. Shoo."

Percy stared with some incredulity as the wine god sat back down and belched loudly. This wine maniac clearly wasn't taking his request seriously. If Zeus ordered Dionysus of all people to run a camp with _his_ own children… he seriously questioned the god's sanity.

Huffing slightly, he exited the room.

In truth, there was nothing he could do- absolutely nothing. Changes, it seemed, only went through Zeus himself- good ol' grandpa.

Mother wouldn't be too happy to hear of this.

There were times when he dearly, _dearly_ wished to teach some gods a lesson... alas, swift retaliation would follow. And considering their lives were so much longer than his...

Antagonizing one would not be a wise thing to do- even with Hecate's protection.

If there was one upside to this entire fiasco, it was that he'd finally gotten the location of the camp. This would be infinitely useful; unlike many of the minor gods, his mother _cared_ for her children. This would act as a beacon for them, a guiding light to bring them to safety.

Smiling, he mist-traveled back to the dark cave under the hills.

* * *

"Good news, I hope?"

A dark flame cackled in the center of the room, providing the barest of illumination. Percy sniffed. "There is good news…" he began slowly. "And bad news."

His mother, across the fire, raised an eyebrow.

Percy forged onwards. "The good news is that we have gleaned the location of the camp."

Hecate nodded approvingly. "Good. Nicely done."

"The bad news being the god assigned, Dionysus, isn't exactly willing to listen to anybody, really. All changes go through Zeus, apparently. And you know how slow grandfather is at these things…"

He could've sworn a dark fired filled his mother's eyes; an instant later, however, it dissipated.

"Hm…" she sat in contemplative silence. "Very well… I shall have to speak to… Zeus.. about the change."

Percy nodded, trying to act inconspicuous as he nonchalantly snuck off-

"Wait."

He sighed. He'd been dreading this.

"Yes, mother?"

"How did you like the camp?"

"It was alright, can I leave now?"

Hecate shot him a glare. "Percy, I'm doing this for your own good. You're almost a teenager now; you can't just run around being my errand boy anymore!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "As much as I enjoy keeping you, there's more to life than this. Go.. what do the mortals call it? Smell the roses, or whatever."

Percy nearly laughed. "Smell the roses, mother? That's a first. So how do you propose I 'smell the roses'?"

He said the last bit in a bit of a sweet-mocking tone; this earned him a slap to the back. "Focus, Percy!"

He truly laughed this time; under Hecate's motherly yet somehow deadly glare, he composed himself.

"Alright. Alright."

"Perhaps… watch a movie. Or get a dinner in New York. Something!"

Her suggestions seemed so ridiculous to him that he laughed, earning him a second, stinging slap- which only served to make him laugh even more.

"Very well. If the opportunity comes along, I'll 'smell the roses'".

Hecate nodded, satisfied.

"That's about all I have to say. I've a meeting in five minutes with…"

She consulted a long piece of dried parchment.

"Some cloud god or another. Something about an issue with the Mist."

Closing the parchment, she nodded pointedly at him. "Alright, Percy. You know what to do if you want to see me."

Twirling, she disappeared in a cloud of tufty, white smoke.

**A/N Nothing much happened in this chapter, other than setting up some new scenes. Please leave a review on your way out! :)**

**I'll try to write longer chapters coming up. **


	3. Chapter 3: Detained

**A/N Thanks to rmitz53, ZoeisZbest, morem for reviewing!**

**Thanks to writerfromheaven for leaving a meaningful review!**

**Please leave a meaningful review on the way out! **

The sleek, white Bugatti sped down the lane, swerving left and drifting through the bend. A darker, blunt Lamborghini followed in quick pursuit, matching the drift exactly.

The two raced through the street, neither gaining, neither losing.

A glass-like cube suddenly obscured the rest of the path; the Bugatti rammed through the barrier with the barest of troubles. Swerving to avoid a large tree, it raced farther and farther down the aisle- a nitro boost of massive proportions.

The Lamborghini, as if losing hope in the chase, raced back up the hill…

The driver of the Bugatti, belied with false security, slowed the nitro and continued at a leisurely pace.

A sound of tire on grass filled the air; the Lamborghini raced from the bushes and rammed the Bugatti with fantastic speed. The sleek car was sent, spiraling and flipping, over the edge…

Percy struggled to pull the Bugatti back; the wheels, sliding and turning, flipped out of his control. The steering wheel snapped off with a loud crack! and the car plummeted…

His eyes widened as he saw the earth rush up to meet him; closing his eyes, he braced himself for impact…

The car raced through the floor and hit the ground with a mundane finality; the engine burst aflame, the rest of the car quickly following suit.

The fire reached the gasoline tank; with a massive explosion, it ripped the car- and its occupant- apart.

Cursing, Percy threw down his controller. Two, bolded words flashed up on the screen: GAME OVER.

"I shall never play GTA ever again!"

It was around midday, almost a week after his mother's last- and disastrous- errand for him. There wasn't much to do, really, other than play video games and swordfight with the resident nymphs.

After throwing the Zelda Ocarina of Time, CS:GO, GTA V, and even Pokemon ORAS game cartridges upon the floor and vowing sweet vengeance upon their creators, Percy found himself once again very, very bored.

Mother had yet to come back from her conference, leaving the 11-year-old boy with absolutely nothing to do.

Blearily, he looked about him.

The room he lay in was certainly large, with thirty different bunks cornered with large, wooden posts.

One of Hecate's childrens' bunkers in WWII, this old relic had never been torn down- and it was just as well. His mother had instructed him to stay here for the duration of her seemingly never-ending meeting.

Percy, for the umpteenth time that day, gnashed his teeth in boredom.

A large set of cards lay covered in his left pocket; he pulled them out now, examining them all carefully. They were Hecate's ultimate gift- an embodiment of her power, the indestructible representation of the power of magic.

Fingering the deck carefully, he replaced it in his pocket. Oh, how he longed to use them on some deserving mortal!

Hm… Perhaps the next best thing would do…

* * *

_Several minutes later..._

A dark-red blur raced across the sky, in hot pursuit of a massive, dark-brown hellhound. The creature yelped and picked up his pace as the two bounded across the empty expanse, racing, full-speed, across New York.

The comet suddenly raced ahead; diving, it rammed the hellhound on the forehead.

The mutt fell, cawing and clawing at the earth.

Percy landed lightly upon the floor, watching the hellhound in amusement.

It was a policy of his never to attack a sentient creature unless it deserved it- and attacking him mid-flight certainly was cause for swift retribution.

Roaring in fright, the large dog backed toward the treeline, its massive eyes trained on the small boy.

Smiling, Percy snapped his fingers; the cards fanned out before him in a wide arc.

"Pick a card… any card!"

Panting, the dog roared and leapt at the boy, swinging its paws in massive arcs. Percy

sidestepped the attack with inhuman speed, eyes still locked with the hound.

"You didn't choose!" Percy said, his eyes bright. "I shall have to choose for you."

The card in the middle, a skull emblazoned with crossbones, enlarged and glowed a dark black.

Fear descended upon the clearing in an instant; squealing, the dog backed away.

THUMP.

Percy cocked his head to the floor, listening intently with a bemused expression. "Don't leave! The party has not even started…"

A mass of hands and arms erupted suddenly from the floor; bones of the dead animated and raised through the ground.

Bone ribcages, skulls, legs rose through the floor, clutching an assortment of weapons.

A mass of skeletons leapt to the hellhound; the beast yelped and turned to run.

He didn't make it a single foot before being struck down by hundreds of celestial bronze arrows.

The skeletons, their duty done, disintegrated back through the Earth; Percy, slightly tired now, grinned. The cards, however powerful they appeared to be, acted on his energies; they were bound to his life force.

The trick with the hundred skeletons was, by far, the most costly. Despite his mother being the goddess of necromancy, summoning a legion of the undead would still drain him- barely.

Standing, he brushed off the monster blood from his clothes and stood… and found a group of demigods staring at him with a mixture of awe and amazement.

Percy noted, with some annoyance, that they were the same demigods who'd captured him on the errand not a week before.

"Hello there…" he muttered. "Is there something you need?"

The gray-eyed girl was the first to snap from her trance. "No- er… wha-" she spluttered, her eyes still wide. "How- how did you do that?"

Percy sighed. "What do you mean? Summoning my friends? My mother is Hecate, the goddess of-"

He held out his fingers. "the Mist, crossroads, entrance-ways, dogs, light, the moon, magic, witchcraft, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants, necromancy, and sorcery. I have near-complete control over all of those domains."

Seeing the girl's incredulous look, he raised an eyebrow. "You can stop staring now…"

Blushing, she turned away.

A taller, sandy-haired boy stepped up, his brow furrowed. "I'm sorry about this, whoever you are…"

He waved his hands; metal formed and writhed across his wrists, creating a lock. Percy stared at his now bound hands.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"We need to bring you in for questioning. You could be a child of the Hades or a rogue god-"

Upon seeing the incredulous look upon Percy's face, he stopped.

Percy concentrated; reaching out through the mist, he willed himself to disintegrate.

Nothing happened.

The sandy-haired boy glanced back at him apologetically. "These are the only gift I've ever gotten from dad. Being the god of thieves, he knows how to catch one- and how to bound one. These Celestial Bronze cuffs can hold a god; you can't escape, even if you try."

The troupe of demigods advanced upon the bound boy carefully, their weapons drawn. Percy rolled his eyes.

"What the h*ll is this? Do you bring in every single person straggling your border for questioning?"

At the girl's confused look, he added- "Remember me? Last week?"

Understanding suddenly dawned in her eyes. She gave a little gasp.

The sandy-haired boy roughly grabbed the cuff and dragged them along; Percy refused to budge.

The boy, exasperated, wrung his hands. "Look. If you're truly innocent, we're only detaining you for about thirty minutes or so. It's like a customs check. If you're on our land, we need to make sure you're not somebody harmful, or…"

At this, he looked about him to make sure they weren't being overheard. "The lightning thief."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Ah. So that's what's been holding up mother's requests- Zeus's tantrums at his toy being stolen. Alright, I shall come with you- thirty minutes of my time for questioning, no more."

**A/N I feel so bad about this short chapter... 2,000 words at least for the next chapter, definitely! I have a test, haven't had time to write :( **


	4. Chapter 4: CTF

**A/N Thanks to Guest, ZoeisZbest, PlutoGenesis, Brekken18, and Cheetah2613 for reviewing! **

The room was a carbon copy of any mundane office building in the world. Nothing in it would suggest its use as a questioning chamber; there were delilahs, _delilahs_, hanging beneath the ceiling, for heaven's sake!

Percy had quickly realized what had once been a 30-minute promise spiraled long into a 2-hour-full-on-investigation.

All the fuss amused him greatly.

An hour of waiting and another of continuous quizzing left a very bored Percy.

The bonds around his fingers and hands annoyed him the most. He couldn't even fetch himself a glass of water.

And now here he was, sitting impatiently in the 'waiting room' (a front porch), overlooking a gigantic, beautiful valley.

Hundreds of groups of small demigods drilled about, laughing; if he had to estimate, there'd be perhaps… a thousand here, at most. A cold comfort considering the legions of monsters at the ready.

It was almost funny the path his mind wandered along; from population, he immediately jumped to food sources. Steak. Water. Coke. Ambrosia, even- the food of the gods.

All imported.

It seemed crazy to Percy; relying completely on imports? Talk about negative trade balance!

A sharp knocking startled him out of his thoughts; he turned, cross, to find himself facing the sandy-haired boy. He had the morality to look guilty- but only slightly. "Er- it seems that we were… wrong. After a _request_ by your mother-"

Percy smiled at this. He could imagine Hecate threatening to tear down the camp for 'wrongfully imprisoning' her 'innocent son'.

"-we have decided to let you free."

The child of Hecate rubbed his hands expectantly. "Excellent. Bonds?"

Luke nodded, waving his hands; the chains cracked in two and landed upon the fertile earth with a thud.

"One-time use." Luke explained.

"Excellent!" stretching, he stood and cricked his back.

"Er…"

"Yes?"

Percy turned with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sorry to inform you of this, but _somebody_ from our cabin has decided to… prank… you."

At Percy's horrified look, Luke digressed. "It's a bit of a tradition. Whomever new comes to the Camp gets pranked at one time or another… and apparently they thought you were a greenhorn. A newbie."

Sighing, Percy buried his face in his hands. "Alright. What exactly did they do?"

"Er… they may have paint-bombed your 'cabin' bunker thing into a giant teepee?"

"WHAT?!"

The resulting outburst was so loud that some of the students watching apprehensively in the valley below flinched back.

"In their defense, your cabin _was_ located around the edges of the technical boundary to the Camp. So it is _technically_ within our rights to do whatever we want to it…"

His words slid past deaf ears.

"I don't care. I honestly don't. That was my only place to stay, do you know that?"

"Which is why we- the Stoll brothers, anyway- have decided to reimburse you forty drachmas, as well as a place in Camp Half-Blood. A temporary stay."

The olive branch was proffered extremely smoothly; Percy, still miffed, grudgingly muttered, "Fine. But tell these aspiring pranksters not to do _anything_ to me again, lest they are looking for swift retribution."

Luke, whose face had been scrunched up in a wound of stress, loosened up. "Phew. I thought you'd react a bit more violently. The last time the Stolls… tee-pee'd a demigod's house, they were chased with sabers close at their heels.

Anyways… we're trailing off topic. I suppose you want to see your temporary room?"

It took nearly five minutes to walk down the entire breadth of the hill; a fairly short hike to the base of the valley. Percy paid no attention to most of the cabins, really; although he found Camp Half-Blood a fairly nice, homely place, he belonged truly in the Manor of Hecate, at the right hand of his mother.

Hence why he chose to zone out as Luke explained the mechanics of the camp, the games, the weekly capture-the-flag tournaments.

"I hear they're doing one today!" Luke offered. "You can join if you want…"

Percy smiled. "Thanks for the offer, I'll certainly consider it."

They made their way down through the winding valley, following a small trickle to a guest cabin nearly thirty feet away from the others. Percy could tell it was a guest cabin because of the aptly named 'GUEST CABIN' sign printed in bold letters proudly hanging around the tiny verandah.

"Hm…" he surveyed the small cabin from every angle. "It'll do."

Luke broke into a wide, relieved grin. "Good!"

He turned to leave, then stopped, as if remembering something important. "Oh, and Percy?" he called. "Do try to make it to CTF. We haven't had a win in ages, and we _need_ new blood."

* * *

The sun had long since disappeared when Percy finally made his way from his cabin and onto the field, the CTF playing field. He checked his digital watch. 6:31 P.M. Excellent. Only a minute late- a record for him.

A small group of campers, perhaps 60 to 70, milled about, chattering excitedly. Luke and the grey-eyed girl stood up front, screaming for silence.

"Welcome to the 102th weekly HUNGER GAMES!"

The crowd cheered at this.

Annabeth shot him a cross look. She leaned in to the mike. "He means capture the flag."

Everybody cheered even louder; Percy could practically see their bloodlust in the air.

"Alright. Everybody split into your respective teams; newbies stay in the middle for sorting."

The majority of the people trickled off to the left and right, leaving Percy and three other boys. They all looked awfully frightened, Percy thought.

"Alright. Hent Gardner, you go to red. Percy Jackson, blue. Reggie Jin, red. Jacob Cardosi, blue."

The children split off into their respective teams; Percy followed Jacob, a small, thin boy into the line of campers donning blue tunics.

"Alright! Let the 102th weekly HUNGER- er, Capture the flag begin!" Luke screamed. He waved the blues over; they followed him across the boundary and into the forest. Annabeth did likewise; her group disappeared beyond the river and through the woods.

"Alright strategy."

Luke focused his eyes on Percy. "Percy, Jacob, Beckendorf, you guys hold down the fort. We'll flank left and rush right."

At Beckendorf's confused look, Luke laughed. "Joking. Our plan is the best plan- no plan!"

Percy couldn't help thinking _no wonder they've lost every game so far_. A group of rag-tag soldiers fighting a practically military commander.

He stepped up. "Alright. I'll flank left; I need 8 people or so to come with me. We'll break their formation, undoubtedly a phalanx, at the right side and disrupt them."

Luke gave him a queer look, then shrugged. "Whatever. Just make sure we get the flag!"

Beckendorf, the Stoll brothers, Jacob, and a few children from various cabins accompanied Percy deep into the heart of the forest, split from the main force.

Shouting and thwacking sounded in the distance; Percy waved his hand for quiet. They approached the treeline and turned, racing down the hill to the valley below. So far, they hadn't been spotted.

"This is the crucial moment." Percy whispered, his eyes flashing. "I need you all to come with me- and be silent. Absolutely silent."

The group crawled up a hill, over a dark, stale creek and over the treeline.

There, positioned strategically to fend off all forward assault, lay a perfect phalanx formation of warriors- each bringing up the rear. Percy grinned. He made a silent hand and mouthed _wait. I will give a signal._

His group nodded; they crouched, laying in wait.

Luke's group rushed over the hills like armies of ants, swarming the phalanx formations- but they couldn't be touched. Percy watched in horror as more and more demigods fell to the large, impenetrable shield formations.

"Chess." he whispered. Beckendorf gave him a queer look. "What?"

"This is just like chess. We have failed an attack and sacrificed soldiers; now the only hope for winning is to complicate the situation."

At Beckendorf's quizzical look, Percy shrugged. "You go for the flag! I'll try to hold them off."

In seconds, he was alone. The pattering sounds of his teammates' footsteps disappeared beyond the horizon.

He strided, quite calm, out of the treeline and into the meadow below- an easy target.

The red warriors saw him coming by a long shot.

A scream sounded; suddenly the phalanx broke off and turned to him, shields tucked in in a wall. Percy raised his palms, concentrating deeply, drawing the energy he needed from his core.

The cards, tucked in his pocket, fanned out in a large wave; with a careful hand, Percy waved them away.

A taunt flew across the meadow. "Ha! Look who's trying to act all 'hero'! As if he stands a chance-"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by a massive explosion of briars.

Screams filled the air as the very floor erupted in massive waves of spikes and ivy, racing up the legs of the warriors and binding them in place. Poison ivy snaked around the shields and brought them to the floor, sending their owners toppling down with them.

The ground around him raced upwards as a wall of thorn vines leapt up in massive eruptions from the ground, interweaving through the shield walls to tangle the troops.

Bark, harsh bark materialized in massive circles around the warriors, binding them together…

Percy grinned. What had once been a proud phalanx now resembled a half-grown tree with humans tripping and stumbling inside. A plus of being the child of the goddess of poisonous plants.

Percy watched, satisfied, as the entire phalanx turned to him; upon seeing the fate of their friends, they roared in outrage. Thirty-odd soldiers raced towards him, screaming bloody murder; Percy, barely drained, raised his hands.

In an instant, he disappeared; the warriors charged empty space. The boy reappeared in their midst, hacking and slashing; confused the red team hacked at him mid-air, desperately trying to exterminate their attacker. The instant Percy landed three blows, he teleported back out; the group, which had previously functioned like a well-oiled machine, flew in a frenzy trying to find their attacker.

Percy, sitting atop a treetop, grinned at the scene.

The entire fiasco left him fairly drained, but it was definitely worth it. The entire red team, including Annabeth, the leader, raced about, struggling to exterminate the threat while Beckendorf and his team leapt across the border…

A loud conch horn sounded as blue sparks raced across the sky, signaling the team's victory.

Percy grinned. He couldn't take on the entire phalanx by himself; but by isolating the members and sowing confusion, he rendered the entire team practically useless. War tactics, really.

He rubbed his arm expectantly as he hopped from the tree; a spear-point, still embedded, fell from his limb. Small spots of blood littered him as he grinned, tired, at his shocked team.

A moment of silence then-

"Percy! Percy! Percy!" the entire group took up the chant; before Percy could comprehend his situation, they'd hoisted them on their shoulders. Percy watched, astounded, as they carried him, prostrate, to the dining hall, still chanting. Laughing and cheering, they dumped him onto his seat; and now he couldn't help but laugh and cheer along.

He could get used to this.

**A/N Phew. Longer chapter. Daily uploads will continue, of course, but I might *might* squeeze in a bonus chapter today. :)**


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